


Tomorrow Is Another Day (when the night fades away)

by well_i_tried



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apocalypse, BAMF Klaus Hargreeves, BAMF Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Ben Hargreeves Deserves Better, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Ben Hargreeves is Dead, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Ghost Ben Hargreeves, Ghosts, Good Brother Ben Hargreeves, Good Brother Klaus Hargreeves, Good Brother Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Klaus Hargreeves Whump, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Protective Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Protective Siblings, Sibling Love, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, Tagging as I go, The Umbrella Academy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2020-09-26 17:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/well_i_tried/pseuds/well_i_tried
Summary: Klaus never realized how long a lifetime was until he spent it in the apocalypse. (Granted, he hadn’t  expected to make it to 29, but here he was.)***Something strange happened in the timeline—something that caused Klaus to live through Vanya’s destruction, something that caused him to remember everything. From electric blue portals ripping open the sky to startlingly white violins.Now, with a long 45 years ahead of him and a slightly traumatized brother—along with a dead one—by his side, Klaus has to figure out how to survive the apocalypse before he can stop it. (With the help of Five, of course.)***OR: another story where klaus lives.





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> The amount of loopholes this story has is astounding, but that’s okay because this is fictional

Klaus woke up coughing. Not the soft kind of cough that happens when your throat tickles, no. They were full-body, lung-destroying coughs. 

The next thing he registered was how much everything _hurt_. Good lord. It felt as if someone was trying to rip his skull open. The rest of him felt like a building had been dropped on him. 

Klaus pushed himself up with a pained grunt. He cracked his eyes open and hissed. Neither the dust nor the light helped his headache.

...Dust?

Forcing his eyes open the the rest of the way, Klaus took in his surroundings. Which... wasn’t much, to say the least. Buildings were crumbled and burning, like most things in sight, and there was no greenery whatsoever. The sky— which normally wasn’t very blue, but was definitely _not_ that weird orange color—was packed with dust. 

And, God, it was so _hot_ .  The sweat was rolling off him in waves and the dust wouldn’t stop sticking. It stuck to everything— his hair, his skin, his clothes. It was even under his nails, God damnit. (That bitch.)

Another cough wracked his body and Klaus decided sitting here wasn’t going to solve anything. Which, if he did say so himself, was a pretty responsible thing to think. Ben would approve. 

Klaus’ head shot up so fast he thought he had given himself whiplash. Where was Ben? Jesus, he was 99% of his impulse control and they both knew it. 

“Ben?” His voice came out hoarse and quiet and _wrecked. _ He tried again. “Ben! Where  are  you?” A vicious voice crack attacked him halfway through the sentence. 

No emo in a hood appeared. Klaus even spun around to check a few times. His brother wasn’t there and he was alone. Very, very alone. 

Finally, it hit him that there didn’t seem to be anyone, or any thing , for that matter. The only things that were moving were him, flecks of debris, and a solitary piece of paper that floated by. 

It was the epitome of the apocalypse. 

...The apocalypse. 

The. Apocalypse. 

Fuck, is that what this was? Five had said that’s what he was trying to stop when he came back, wasn’t it? 

Klaus shook his head, trying to clear up his thoughts. Then he groaned.  Bad idea. But, really, though—what had happened between then and now? And where were the others? His siblings? 

He ran his hand tiredly down his face before forcing himself into a standing position. For a second, he swayed violently and the world went in and out of view behind black splotches before his vision cleared. 

Carefully, he took a small step forward. When he didn’t fall over or pass out, he took another step. Then another and another. 

Then he tripped and fell flat on his face. 

“Fucking hell,” Klaus muttered as he rolled onto his back. 

Klaus sat up and looked back at what he tripped over. Or... who he tripped over. 

God, no. No, no, no— it was  Allison . It was Allison with her beautiful, curly hair and her soft face. With words—whether they be caring or venomous—and her stunning smile. The fond look she got on her face when thinking about Claire and her steady hands as she’d do his makeup. 

Klaus could see the bandage on her throat peeking out from the rubble. He had been so scared that he would lose her that day— there had been so much blood. Her white top turned scarlet and her pulse was basically nonexistent. But she had lived. 

Now, though—now, she was laying in the rubble, covered in dust. Her face held no sign of life and chest didn’t rise or fall in the slightest. 

Even without the physical indicators, Klaus knew his sister was dead. He could feel the aura of her death blazing around her like a fire. She. Was.  Dead. 

The presence of another death pressed against his back and he shuffled around—Diego’s body was now laying a few feet away. 

A broken noise escaped Klaus as he crawled over to his fallen brother. He was face down, concrete and ash pressing into his tanned face. Smoke and dust had turned his black shirt and pants a dirty grey. 

Something pulled Klaus’ eyes up until they landed on a hand sticking out of the ground. The overcoat and fingerless gloves sent a jolt of recognition through Klaus. There was another sibling— Luther. 

In his hand seemed to be something small and spherical.  _Oh_.  It was the eye that Five said he had carried around for four decades. 

Klaus stared at his brother for a second longer before letting his eyes drift to the sky. The ash raining down only made him tear up faster and soon he was crying. Sobbing, if you wanted to get technical. His body shook with every breath and he cried so hard he felt like he was going to throw up. Screamed a little bit as well, making his voice crack and break not soon after. God, he really was alone. 

“Vanya!” A small, panicked voice called. “Ben! Dad! Anyone!”

Well, maybe he wasn’t. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, Little Number Five stumbled into view. Just as young as the last time Klaus remembered seeing him, but just a little different. The way he carried himself— it wasn’t guarded with all his muscles tight and ready to attack. It was more childish,— not innocent, no. None of them were ever innocent—more open. Terrified. 

Oh , this was when Five first traveled back. He hadn’t gone through forty-something years alone yet. He still thought all his siblings were back home and thirteen, just having watched him run out the door. Five wouldn’t recognize him. 

His mouth moved before he could stop himself. “ _Five?_” 

It came out as a whisper, but Five somehow heard it over the crackling and snapping of the fires in between them. 

The younger boy’s head snapped around to look at him, eyes wide and vulnerable. 

“How do you know my name?” The words came out wobbly, thick with emotion. 

Klaus  knew  this was going to be confusing for the boy. He’s confused, too. But Five is, was, and always would be smarter than him or anyone else in their family, so he believed that Five could handle this. Hopefully. 

“I’m Klaus.”

Five looked at him, desperate and confused. “No, you’re not. Klaus is 13 and at home.” His voice broke on the last word. 

“I know this is confusing, and I’m going to explain everything and you probably won’t believe me, but I promise it’s all true.” Klaus was desperate for Five to trust him. He didn’t want him to have to go through being alone (again?).

“I—“ Five paused, staring him down. “Prove it. Prove you’re my brother.” 

Klaus breathed out a sigh of relief; he could do this. He had so much shit on all his siblings—less on Five, but still.

“Okay. Okay.” Klaus ran his hand through his dirty hair. “Do you remember when we were younger, and Vanya made you a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich on a dare and we all thought you would hate it because you hate sugary things? But then you became obsessed with them and ate them as much as possible, so me and Diego would steal the marshmallows and chuck them at each other.” His eyes drifted down to the body in front of him and suddenly it became harder to speak. “Sometimes— sometimes, though, we’d throw them at you and you’d join in on it and would threaten to kill us if we spoke a word of it to anyone.” 

Klaus finished with a heaving breath, only to realize he’s crying. God, it’s been so long since he was a kid. Before any shit went down. 

Five’s eyes followed his own and they landed on Diego. Tears sprung forward and Klaus could only assume he had put two and two together.

His brother’s gaze traveled around the ash-covered graveyard and took in the image of three of his siblings. Dead. (It was the first time he ever saw them as adults and the last he would see of them for a very long time.)

A sob cut its way out of his little brother’s chest and soon there was a smaller body in his arms, shaking and heaving and holding onto Klaus so tight, like he was afraid he might disappear.

Klaus pressed his face into Five’s hair and wrapped his arms around him as tightly as possible. He was going to protect his brother as best as he can and he’ll be damned if he left Five alone to suffer through this hell-scape. 

It was a while before anything was said again, but eventually Five commented, “It’s ‘Diego and I’ not ‘me and Diego.’”

Klaus tilted his head to the side and stared at his brother. “What?” 

“Earlier, when you were talking about when we were younger.” Five pressed himself closer to Klaus. “You said, ‘me and Diego would steal marshmallows and chuck them at each other.’ That’s wrong. It would be ‘Diego and I.’”

Klaus hummed and placed his chin on his younger brother’s head. His eyes drifted to the sky, which had turned from a weird orange color to a darker grey color. The temperature had dropped as well, causing him to shiver. 

“I think we should find a place to sleep.” 

Klaus felt Five nod. “Yeah, but...” the younger of the two paused. “What about them?” His voice came out weak, almost frail. 

The elder followed his brother’s gaze to the body still in front of them and could only assume he wanted to do something for their siblings. 

Something akin to an ache settled in Klaus’ chest. Five, who had never met any of his siblings in their later years, and for all he knew could’ve been different people, wanted to bury them; to respect them. Five, who had always tried to put a wall in front of his emotions and stay detached, still cared enough for the world to hurt him. 

“We’ll figure something out tomorrow, kid.” Klaus ran his hand down Five’s back in a way he hoped was comforting. 

“Okay.” However detached Five tried to make his answer sound, an ocean of emotions still spilled through. 

Five stood and Klaus followed. Neither said anything about the hand fisted into Klaus’ jacket. 

They paused and took a look around. There was nothing that could really serve as a legitimate shelter, so they’d just have to make due. 

“Come on,” said Klaus, leading Five towards the ruins of the Academy. “We can try and find somewhere to sleep.” 

Five only nodded in response and followed silently. 

After looking around, it was decided that the most structurally stable room was the basement dining room. They pulled some charred pillows and blankets down from some of the old rooms and built some kind of shitty fort under the table. 

They laid there, facing each other, under a table that held memories of a time long gone and closed their eyes. 

“Goodnight, Klaus.” 

“Night, bro.” Klaus paused for a moment. “It’s going to be okay.” 

Five was quiet for a moment before he whispered, “Okay.” 


	2. There’s Bravery In Saying Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️There are mentions of withdrawal in this chapter, and although they may not be entirely correct, (as I have never experienced severe withdrawal) I’m just letting you know as a forewarning. Please correct me or give me tips if something is incorrect, but otherwise enjoy!

His little brother was still asleep when Klaus woke up. They were covered in a thick layer of ash and his muscles protested as he sat up. He blinked blearily before focusing on the small figure next to him. 

Five looked dead to the world. No, wait, too soon. Five looked absolutely  _exhausted_.  His eyes were still red from crying the night before and dark bags had formed under them. All in all, he looked like shit. 

Klaus muffled a cough into the crook of his arm, body shaking hard enough that the majority of the ash and dust dislodged itself from his clothing. This cough was going to be a problem if it didn’t go the  _fuck_ away. 

As quiet as possible, Klaus slid himself out from under the table and stood, stretching. His back gave a few satisfying pops and he sighed; sleeping under a table is one way to fuck up your back. 

After the whole shebang that was yesterday, Klaus finally noticed the familiar itch under his skin.It crawled from his fingertips down to his toes and made his veins feel like they were trying to burn themselves out of his skin. 

“Fuck,” Klaus muttered as he stared down at his shaking hands.

While he knew he could probably find some pills to pop in some slightly less destroyed pharmacy somewhere, it would also mean he had to go through withdrawal later. 

But the howls and moans of the dead were already starting to seep into his soul through his ears, and the familiar panic that came with seeing and hearing ghouls and spirits began to kick in. 

Klaus closed his eyes and clamped his hands over his ears to try and mute the horrendous sounds floating around him. He really,  _really_ wished Ben was still there to distract him, or at least give him comforting words. 

His wish was answered, in a strange sort of way. It wasn’t Ben distracting him, but instead Five. Who was in the process of tossing and turning on their kinda-but-not-really-a-bed bed. Small cried came in bursts from his mouth as his hands—although curled up near his chest—were making grabby motions, as if he was reaching for someone. 

It was then, Klaus decided, in a moment of impulsivity, that he would get sober. If not for him or for Ben, then for Five. Because while  no one  should live in the apocalypse, it was certainly no place for a child. And even though Klaus was probably the worst “adult” Five could’ve been stuck with, he was willing to try his damndest to be there for him. 

“Hey, hey,” Klaus murmured as he crawled back under the table. “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re alright.” 

Klaus slowly carded his hands through Five’s dusty hair, letting his nails scrape lightly against his brother’s scalp. He hoped it would calm Five down, since it always soothed him whenever Grace would do it before Reginald found out and made her stop. 

Five’s eyes fluttered before opening quickly. There was less panic in them than Klaus thought there would be, but there was more than he hoped. He didn’t stop running his hands through his brother’s hair. 

“ _Klaus_? ” The boy’s voice was scratchy and desperate.

“Yeah, Five. I’m here.” Klaus shoved as much love and reassurance as he could into that single statement. 

Five let out a shuddering breath and grabbed for Klaus’ free hand blindly. He found it, eventually, and flipped it over so it was palm side up. Almost absentmindedly and a little bit impulsively, Five traced the word ‘GOODBYE’ with his fingertip, as if he was trying to memorize every possible detail about it. 

If Five noticed the shaking in his brother’s hand, he didn’t say anything. 

“This is new,” Five commented as started running his finger over the word again. 

Klaus chuckled lightly. “For you, maybe. I’ve had these babies since I was 18.” He stopped running his hand through Five’s hair—though his brother’s little huff of disappointment made him feel guilty—to show him his ‘HELLO’ hand. 

His younger brother’s eyes flicked between the two hands for a moment or two before he huffed out a laugh and a small grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

“What?” Klaus asked, a grin fighting a way onto his face for some reason as well. 

Five chuckled lightly before answering. “Now you’re a true human Ouija board.” 

Klaus’ mouth dropped open. “Oh my God, did you just make a joke?” He clapped his hands. “My baby brother is growing up so fast!”

Said “baby brother” glared at his older brother, but there was no actual malice behind it. 

“Shut up. And I’m not your baby brother.” 

Klaus smirked. “You might as well be. I’m...” He paused to do the math. “16 years older than you!” 

Instead of laughing, Five looked away from Klaus’ face and rubbed at his eyes. 

The smirk fell from Klaus’ face. “Hey, littlest brother, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just...” Five’s small chest lurched with a sniff. “You grew up without me, I guess. The Klaus I left in the past will grow up without me. All of my—our—siblings do. I was gone for longer than I was there.”

Klaus’ heart clenched for what felt like the millionth time. He gathered Five up in his arms and returned to weaving his hands into his little brother’s hair, not saying anything. 

“Sor-ry for crying l-like a baby,” Five croaked out. Poor kid; his throat and tear ducts have had a rough twelve hours. 

Klaus shushed him. “It’s okay to cry. I learned that sometimes it’s better to cry than to act strong.” 

“Why?” Damn Reginald and his need to emotionally constipate his children.

“Well—“Klaus wasn’t exactly sure why  _he_ was coaching Five on one’s emotional well-being. So, he decided to channel his inner Ben. Ben always helped him. “Think of it like this: all the emotions you hold in are like a breath of air. You are a balloon. If you fill the balloon with too much air, it’ll... burst!”

Five hummed and leaned into Klaus. It may have been 17 years since they last saw each other—being forced together to save the world doesn’t count as “seeing each other” in his book—but Klaus knew when his brother was thinking. 

“What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

“I’m thinking about our siblings.” Five fiddled with the hem of his blazer. “And what we should do with them. I think we should bury them, try and give them the best that we can.” 

Klaus  _willed_ himself not to cry at the thought of his siblings, and instead nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, voice wobbly. “That sounds like a plan.” 

“We should start at night,” Five continued. “It’s colder then and we’ll probably be less likely to pass out from exertion.”

A weak chuckle escaped from Klaus. “I always knew you were the smart one.”

Five smiled at that. 

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon, they wandered around their destroyed house, trying to see if there was anything they could scavenge. Klaus, though, mostly wanted to take his mind off the building tidal wave of want for drugs. 

It was after the sixth time that Five caught him staring off into space and clenching his shaking hands that Klaus decided it was time to talk. 

“Okay, so—“ Klaus started, but then died off. He didn’t really know how to go about this. From the top? Yeah from the top. “So, it started when I was a kid and Dad would lock me in a mausoleum in a graveyard just a few minutes outside of the city.” 

Confusion painted Five’s face, but that was soon swept away by rage. “He _what_?” His words were seething.

Klaus waved his hands, quieting his brother. “Please let me finish.” Five nodded. “Thank you. Anyways, where were we? Oh, yes—the mausoleum!” The light tone of Klaus’ voice didn’t do shit to mask the trauma in his eyes. “Daddy dearest would lock me in there for hours upon hours upon hours. He liked to think it was strengthening my powers, making me less afraid of them. He just traumatized me, instead. Not soon after, I started taking drugs.”

His eye’s swept over Five’s face for any sign of disgust, revulsion, anything. There was none. He supposed Five knew about the drugs. After all, he didn’t disappear until they were thirteen. But, still—saying it out loud is different than it being implied. 

“Dad locked me in there from the time I was nine-ish, maybe, up until I left after—“ Klaus stopped. Is right now the best time to tell Five that their brother has been dead for quiet some time?

“After what?” Five questioned. 

“I’ll, uh— I’ll tell you later, ‘kay?” Klaus scratched his nails up and down his forearms. “So I started by taking some of Dad’s alcohol. Eventually that didn’t do anything to stop the ghosts from screaming, so when I was around twelve I started smoking weed. And when that wasn’t strong enough I moved on to something stronger. So on and so forth.” 

Five chewed on his bottom lip. “They scream?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Klaus laughed bitterly. “All the damn time. They won’t ever shut the fuck up, constantly yelling and shouting and howling for me to help them but I don’t know  how. ” 

His brother picked at some dirt on his sleeve. “Why are you telling me this?” 

Klaus sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Because it’s going to be hard for me to quit. Especially cold turkey. So I need you to help me.”

“How?”

“There will be some days where it’s worse than others. I’ll cry and beg and yell for you to let me go get some drugs.” Klaus paused. “But I need you to stop me from running off. Whether it be through distracting me, guilt tripping me, or just straight up knocking me out—you just have to stop me. Okay?”

Five stared at him for a second. “I—Yeah. Okay.” 

Klaus let his shoulders sag. “Thank you.” 

The younger just nodded and returned to poking around the debris for any salvageable food or supplies. 

Shaking his hands out, Klaus stood. He took in a deep breath, then coughed.  Bad ide a. Ash doesn’t make a very good refreshing breath of fresh air. 

“Come help me move this!” Five called, trying to shove a piece of stone off the refrigerator. 

Klaus hopped over a fallen pillar and walked up next to him. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.” He cracked a smile. “I mean, have you see these noodle arms?”

Five rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” 

“You wound me,” Klaus whined as he stood next to Five and put his body weight into a shove. 

The slab move maybe an inch before stopping in place. Five let out a huff of frustration. “Again,” he commanded. 

“Whatever you say, little man.” Klaus grinned. 

Five rolled his eyes once more and shoved the concrete again.Klaus joined him in the second shove. It ground against the metal of the appliance and they both winced at the noise. 

Twenty minutes and a lot of swearing later, they had  finally  managed to get the damn concrete slab off the fridge. 

“Christ, there better be something good in this fridge,” Klaus commented as he tugged the door open. 

Five shrugged. “Aside from dairy products like milk and cheese, everything should be relatively fine. The world hasn’t been destroyed for that long.” 

Klaus giggled at the crudeness of the joke, and not long after Five snorted and joined in. 

Then Klaus’ laughs turned into a cough. Then another. And soon he’s hunched over and hacking into the crook of his elbow. 

Five stopped laughing immediately and hopped over the fridge to stand next to his brother. His hands hovered around Klaus as if he wasn’t exactly sure what to do in the situation. He settled for awkwardly patting Klaus on the back.

“Are you okay?” His voice held worry and a tinge of fear, as if he was afraid Klaus’ lungs would collapse from the force of the coughs. 

To be completely honest, Klaus wouldn’t be surprised if his lungs did collapse. 

“Yeah,” He rasped. “I’m fine. Think I swallowed a lot of that ash coming back to life or something.”

Five apparently missed the memo that Klaus had been dead at one point, or opted to ignore it—which seemed unlikely.

“Or something,” His brother chided while pulling Klaus towards a relatively clean area. “You—sit. I’m going to look through the fridge while you try not to die before tonight.”

Klaus gave a mock salute in lieu an answer. 

For a while, neither said anything. Klaus watched the sky start to dip towards that weird grey color as the dropping temperatures chilled the sweat on his skin. Five continued to go through the fridge, setting the contents in piles. He muttered to himself while reading expiration dates—did those even matter anymore?—and ingredients on items. 

Eventually, the sky dimmed enough and the air cooled to Five’s standards. 

“We should...we should get started,” Five said, staring at the ground emptily. 

Klaus only nodded and pushed himself up, following Five out of the destroyed Academy to the street where their siblings laid, cold. 

Swells of grief rose up inside Klaus as he looked around at his siblings. The urge to cry built up like a wave behind his eyes and he closed them tightly before it could go crashing down. 

Five didn’t look much better; he was trembling from head to toe and his breaths were coming out in little gasps as he tried not to break down. 

“It’s okay to cry,” Klaus said. (Hypocrite).

The boy sniffed. “Crying will dehydrate us faster.” Ah, Five, ever the forward thinker. 

Klaus said nothing in return as they took dreadful steps towards Luther. The eye was still clutched in his hand, raised towards the heavens like an offering. Blood had chilled and dried again this fingers. 

Even though Klaus already knew who the eye belonged to, it seemed wrong to leave it there. Luther has put forth enough effort to rip it out of Leonard’s (Harold’s?)face, so therefore they could carry it around for the next however many years. Kind of like some messed up, twisted homage to their past efforts. 

He reached forward and pried it out of Luther’s hand while Five watched on with an understanding look settled on his face. Five’s eyes didn’t leave the spherical object until it was tucked neatly into Klaus’ pocket. 

“So,” Klaus began. “How are we going to do this?”

Five chewed on his lip once more and looked between their siblings, Klaus, and the environment. He repeated the motion a few times, seemingly trying to get morbid inspiration from the death and destruction around them. 

Finally, he spoke up. “We could try and pull them all together, and then bury them as best we can. Maybe find something to mark it with.” 

“Like, just lay them out here on the road?” He paused. “That sounds rude, to be honest.” 

Five scowled and wiped at his eyes. “Well we could try and get them into the court yard if you want to be really fucking fancy, but we would also probably end up dying of god damn dehydration.” 

“Language,” The man chided, although there was no real effort behind it. 

His younger brother rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Klaus glanced behind him at the gate in front of their used-to-be house. One side of it was laying completely on the ground, while the other was barely hanging on by a hinge, the insignia practically melted into something unrecognizable.

“We could lay them in front of the house. Or what’s left of it.” Klaus waved in the general direction as he turned to face Five. “Use the gates as some sort of, uh...tombstone.”

They both cringed at the word.

Five ended up nodding, after staring at the gates for another few moments. (Poor kid—it’s barely even been a day and he went from eating dinner with his siblings to having to bury three of them.) 

Klaus made the move to clap, as he always did to get an awkward situation going, but then realized that this was certainly  not  the time to clap enthusiastically and announce the beginning of the burial of their siblings. He put his hands down and ignored Five’s confused stare. 

“Should we move Luther first? Y’know, for energy and what not?” Klaus shrugged a shoulder. “Allison and Diego will probably be easier to move.

Five nodded again, still not saying anything, and moved towards their brother. 

Klaus raked his nails down his forearms once more before following after his little brother. The voices of the dead were starting to raise in volume, and he desperately needed something to distract him. 

Grabbing the rubble in a white-knuckled grasp, Five turned to Klaus. “On three.” Klaus nodded. “One, two, three!”

They yanked the flat piece of concrete backwards, stumbling a bit as they tripped over lose rocks. The slab came off fairly easy with their combined efforts, though. It tipped towards them and they scrambled to the sides as it hit the ground with a loud cracking sound. 

When Klaus turned back to look at his large brother, he cringed. A foundation rod was stabbed through Luther’s thigh, it’s already rusted color tinged red. Part of his chest looked slightly caved under that large overcoat, and Klaus morbidly wondered how much force it would’ve taken to break his brother’s ribs. 

Five, for what it’s worth, looked mildly uncomfortable at the sight of his damaged sibling. His eyebrows turned up a little and the corners of his mouth dipped down but that was it. 

“Well,” Five’s voice was flat, unemotional. “Let’s get to it.” 

Klaus frowned, although he wasn’t surprised; Five tended to close himself off from his emotions. Always had and presumably always will. Klaus chalked the earlier emotional outbursts up to shock and stress. 

He simply nodded and followed his younger brother over to the body. The body. _Christ_, he’s not even referring to it as Luther anymore. 

Swallowing down the bile that rose in the back of his throat, Klaus followed Five over to  _Luther_ and began trying to pull his leg off the rod. It went a little before getting stuck. With a little more pulling it scraped against something—presumably bone,  ew —before coming off. 

Five, on the other hand, was picking off some of the smaller pieces of debris. He brushed some dust off Luther’s concave chest with uncharacteristic softness—even brushed it out of Luther’s air. 

For the umpteenth time that day, Klaus wanted to breakdown crying. He let out a few coughs instead. 

Eventually, they freed him from his concrete deathbed enough to begin carrying him. And it wasn’t that Klaus had forgotten how big Luther was, he just didn’t realize he would be so  _god damn heavy._ In hindsight, that would’ve probably been a reasonable assumption; the bigger the man, the heavier the weight.  _Duh_. 

Carrying a man who weighed more than Klaus and Five combined actually consisted of them heaving him up, scuttling sideways as fast as they could, before resting and then repeating. Maybe a little dragging, too. 

After some time, with as much delicacy as they could—which in reality turned out to be dropping him almost unceremoniously—Klaus and Five placed Luther down by the gate.  _One down, two to go. _

Next was Diego. 

The only thing that had really changed about his appearance was the amount of ash on him. His formerly black clothes now looked stained with grey, and even his tanned skin had taken a more sickly color. 

Klaus squatted down next to his brother. While they hadn’t been terribly close, he was the only one who actually saw Klaus during the years after he left. Even if it was to drop him off at rehab or pick him up from the police station, Diego would always talk with him,  _sometimes_ even taking him to get waffles. 

Tremors shook Klaus’ shoulders as he rolled Diego over, the movement causing ash and dust to fall away. It didn’t do anything to liven up his completion. He still looked as dead as he was. 

A small hand placed itself on his back, and Klaus turned fractionally. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Five standing behind him, gaze focused on the ground. He wasn’t sure if the hand was there for his comfort or Five’s support. It helped either way. 

Klaus released a wavering breath and grabbed Diego by the shoulders. He looked at Five and nodded towards Diego’s feet. He got the message and grasped them tightly. 

They hoisted him up and  _Jesus_ , he was a lot lighter than Luther. Both him and Five stumbled as they pulled him up, the force of their movements knocking them off balance. 

Moving Diego was a much faster process than moving Luther had been. While it was still hard, but not annoyingly so, it took about half the time that it did to move their literal ape of a brother. (Five didn’t know that.)

Diego was placed to the right of Luther, their arms barely grazing each other’s. The difference in size was almost comical; Luther’s bicep was probably the size of Diego’s waist and his hands looked big enough to crush his brother’s face. 

Finally, they went to get Allison. 

She was laying face up, turned towards the heavens. Her hands rested at her sides and Klaus would’ve thought she was sleeping if it weren’t for the cold chill to her skin and the undisturbed ash settled on her. 

Five stared at her, anxiously running his fingers along the hem of his blazer. “What happened to her throat?” 

“That’s something I’ll explain later as well, my darling brother.”

A frustrated noise escaped Five’s mouth. “Fine.” He took a look around. “Where are Ben and Vanya?” 

Klaus cringed and opened his mouth to respond. 

Five huffed. “You’ll explain it later, got it.”

Allison was probably the easiest to move. She didn’t have as much muscle as either of her brothers and her career as an actress kept her thin. 

Even after she had had Claire, Allison had somehow gotten back to her thin physique only weeks later. Klaus had seen the pictures and you could color him  impressed. 

When they had set Allison down, they sky was once again the deep grey it had been before.

“What time do you think it is?” Klaus knew their father had taught them how to check the time with the moon and the stars or some shit, but he didn’t remember. And even if he had remembered, he couldn’t even  see  much past the copious amounts of ash and dust in the sky. 

Without looking up, Five said, “Eleven fifty-two PM.” 

Klaus blinked. “How’d you know that?”

Five just shrugged. 

“Okay, then.” Klaus turned to look at their line of siblings. One, Two, Three. Luther, Allison, Diego. 

Klaus chewed on a hangnail as he stared at the order. He knew Diego wouldn’t want to be next to Luther and that Allison and Luther would want to be together.

“Help me real quick,” Klaus said, pulling Allison to the side a bit. 

Five frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I’m fixing this. They would’ve hated this order.” Klaus started to pull Diego towards him to create room between him and Luther. 

His younger brother shrugged and helped move Diego over, then helped roll Allison over her brother. 

Finally settled, Klaus took another look at his siblings and nodded. “Better.” 

Dragging his eyes away from their siblings, Five asked, “Should we bury them?” 

Klaus almost nodded, but then a moment of realization struck him: they were already tired and dehydrated. That didn’t make for a good combination. 

“No,” Klaus said, looking at the already thin layer of ash on their bodies. “By morning the ash will probably have covered them up.”

Five only nodded and turned back to face the line of siblings. He took a deep breath. “So, I know I left. I’m sorry about that. Apparently it’s been a lot longer for you than it has been for me. Time travel’s weird like that, I guess.” He laughed emptily. It turned into a sob. “I’m—I’m sorry we didn’t get to grow up together. This is all really confusing because I just saw you guys like a day ago but now you’re all grown up and you’re  _dead_.” 

His voice cracked horrifically. Five buried his head in his hands and Klaus rushed up next to him to stop his brother from falling over. 

He was pushed away a moment later and Five wiped at his eyes before continuing. “And now I don’t know who you are. I don’t know about any accomplishments you made in life or if your childhood dream came true. Allison, I don’t know if you became an actress and Diego I don’t know if you ever got out of that phase of wanting to be a chef after you helped mom in the kitchen for three straight weeks.” 

Klaus remembered that. It had been kind of out of the blue; one day Diego went in to help mom cook and later declared that he wanted to be a chef when he grew up. Luther had laughed and Allison had quirked an eyebrow. Ben and Klaus were supportive, Five—seemingly—didn’t care and Vanya hadn’t said anything. (She had later given Diego her quiet approval. Said they could work a venue together if she ever became a good enough violinist. He had liked the idea.) 

“Luther, I don’t know if you ever realized Dad didn’t love us or if you got to live your own life and be your own person, away from Dad’s weird, bullshit gaslighting.” Five took in a shaky breath. “I’m just...I’m sorry I wasn’t there to experience life with you. And even if I don’t really know you guys anymore, I miss you.”

Klaus didn’t realize that he was crying until he blinked and his eyelashes stuck together. 

He grabbed the boy’s shoulder. “Come on, we should try and get some sleep, then find some water tomorrow.” 

Five nodded silently and started to follow his older brother back to the ruined Academy. 

On the way there, Klaus tried to ignore the stickiness of his face and the thirst in the back of his throat and on his tongue. The itch under his skin didn’t help his comfort levels. 

As they ascended the crumbled steps of their old home, a voice cut through the chilly air and few crackling fires. “Well, that was a touching funeral.”

Klaus whirled around so fast he thought he had given himself whiplash. 

“ _Ben_? ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I tried to post this the first time, it deleted everything and I got so mad that I gave up for a few hours, and I’m still mad about it so I haven’t read over it, so I apologize for the mistakes. :))
> 
> And enjoy a little out of character comfort, because that’s how they will heal after I mentally and emotionally destroy them in this story.


	3. Knowledge Is An Admirable Goal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bahaha, I kinda hate this chapter and I have no idea how time works. Please ignore any loopholes if you wish to enjoy this story to the fullest extent.

“Ben?” Klaus took a lurching step towards his long-dead brother. “Where were you?”

Five stopped dead in his tracks and spun around, trying to see Ben as well. It must’ve clicked that Ben was dead, because Five’s shoulders dropped and he turned to look at Klaus.

“Ben’s here?” His voice was small and hopeful. 

“Yeah,” Klaus confirmed. “And he’s just standing there and not answering my question.”

The brother in question rolled his eyes. “If you must know, I was always here. I just couldn’t get enough energy to push through the veil.”

Klaus let out a little “Huh.” He turned when Five tugged on his sleeve.

“What’s he saying?”

“Well, he says that he’s been here the whole time, but that he couldn’t find enough energy to pull through the valve or something.” Klaus waved his hand absentmindedly.

“Valve?” Five asked, skeptical.

“Veil,” Ben corrected.

“Veil!” Klaus parroted.

Five hummed and stared at the empty space in front of him. Klaus wasn’t sure if he was trying to look at where Ben was or if he just had some thoughts running around in that genius brain of his.

“So—“ Thinking it was, then. “Does that mean the other are here too? Our siblings.” Five stared at his brother with wide eyes.

Klaus shrugged his shoulders and turned to face Ben. “You heard the little man. Are the others here too?”

Ben turned to look at something behind him, outside of Klaus’ powers. His face scrunched up for a second and he shook his head before turning to face them again.

“Yeah they’re here too. But they can’t get past the veil for some reason.” He sent another look behind himself. “Luther’s trying to take charge, Diego’s not listening and I think Allison is trying to convey her thanks for the funeral.”

“Oh, so Allison isn’t able to talk?” Klaus frowned. “I though being a ghosty would fix that.”

Five spoke up. “Why can’t Allison talk? It has to do with her throat, right?”

The ghostly brother frowned at Klaus. “He doesn’t know?”

“Yeah...” Klaus scratched at his forearms. “I’ve been meaning to explain everything. I  _ think _ I know what happened. And honestly it’s probably the smartest thing I’ve ever thought of. Literally.”

Both Five and Ben urged him to explain.

Klaus sat down and patted the ground next to him. “This is going to take a while.” Five sat and he nodded. “Okay, so. I’ll start with this  _ wonderful  _ situation we’re in. Five, in my timeline or something, you lived through this apocalypse, but you were alone. You lived here for about forty years or something before someone you said was called ‘The Handler’ came and snatched you out of this place.” Five looked utterly confused. “Bear with me here. Anyways, you were a time-traveling assassin and you almost assassinated JFK but you time traveled back before you actually did it.”

Ben hummed. “And that’s when he fell out of the sky.” He paused. “Oh my god! You threw a fire extinguisher at him!”

“Shut up!” Klaus hissed.

Five’s eyes bounced around, seemingly trying to locate Ben. “What’d he say?”

“Nothing important.” Klaus clapped his hands. “Back to the story! So you time traveled back to 2019—which is this year—and ended up back eight days before the apocalypse. You tried to convince us that the world was ending but like the unconventional and dysfunctional people that we are, we apparently didn’t listen. And that’s how we ended up here.” He threw his hands up into some jazz hands. “Here’s the best and most confusing part: you traveling here to the apocalypse is what started this chain of events, but it’s also where the last chain of events ended.  But!  But, but, but, I don’t think I was alive for the last apocalypse. Things are changing!”

Ben whistled. “That actually sounded smart. Congrats, Klaus, you aren’t brain dead.”

“Shut up, Ben!” Klaus swatted at him but his hand went through.

Five threw his hands up. “Wait, wait, wait! Let me get this straight: when you were a kid, I time traveled to the apocalypse—like I did yesterday—and got stuck here, but I was alone for forty years.  Then , some other time traveler came and hired me to be an assassin for a period of time. Then I apparently almost assassinated  _ goddamn JFK _ before time traveling back to eight days before the apocalypse. But we failed and everyone died—like they did in presumably every other attempt in this time line—trying to stop the apocalypse.”

Klaus bobbed his head. “In so many words, yes.”

His little brother chewed on his lip. “But, how did the apocalypse happen in the first place?”

The Séance cringed and so did his ghostly brother. He knew this conversation was in the making but having to explain it would be painful.

“So...ordinary Number Seven wasn’t so ordinary.” Five opened his mouth to interject but Klaus waved him off. “Vanya had had powers the whole time, but Dad was afraid of her, so he drugged her up to her gills and locked her away. He even made Allison rumor her into thinking she was ordinary.”

Five shook his head incredulously. “What an asshole.”

Ben nodded fervently in agreement.

“I know right,” Klaus snorted before continuing. “Eventually, this guy named Leonard Peabody, who’s actual name was Harold Jenkins and was the owner of they eye Luther had, found the journal Dad kept on Vanya—which may or may not have been my fault—and used it to manipulate her. Vanya got angry when she learned what Allison had done and lost control of her powers, resulting in Allison getting a slashed throat. When Luther learned of this he locked Vanya in this weird vault under the house that Dad used to lock her in and she panicked and lost all control of her powers, eventually destroying the house.” Klaus cleated his throat. Man, he was thirsty. “She was playing at a concert when we tried to stop her and she basically exploded with power and destroyed the moon. I’m not sure why were weren’t completely decimated along with everything else, but here we are now. I’m not sure what happened to you, either, since we didn’t find your body in some weird time fuck up.”

“Are you telling me  _ Vanya  _ destroyed the world?” Five rested a hand on his forehead. “The same Vanya that would cry when we stomped on ants as kids?”

“Crazy, right!” Klaus exclaimed.

The nonchalant “Don’t forget to talk about how Luther has an affinity for choking out his siblings.” Ben threw out was lanced with venom.

“Right, right,” Klaus said.

Five glanced to the side where Klaus waved. “What’d he say?”

“Mmm.” The elder of the two rested his chin on his hand. “Just that Luther, with his big and beefy monkey arms, likes to choke out his siblings.”

The Boy blinked once. Stared at Klaus. Blinked again. Then: “He  _ what _ .”

“Yeah,” said Klaus. “He choked me and threw me to the ground when I wouldn’t conjure Dad. He was drunk.”

Five pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m...not actually that surprised.” Pause. “He was drunk?”

“_Sí, _ _ mon frère _ , he was.” Klaus waved his finger. “He was  not  drunk, however, when he crushed Vanya to the point of unconsciousness.”

“He did fucking  _what_?”  Five seethed.

Klaus said, “Language.” And then, “He wanted to contain her in the weird dungeon room under the house because she was a “threat.” Which really isn’t fair because when you really think about it, we’re all threats, but  we —“ Klaus threw his hand in a wide circle— “learned how to control our threat-y-ness.”

Ben snorted. “You were too high off your ass the entire time to learn to control your powers.”

“ _ Low blow _ _,_” Klaus gasped in mock offense.

Five raised his eyebrows and upturned his palms in a ‘ _What did he say?_’  motion.

“He was talking about my lovely addiction and how it hindered my  _ wonderful  _ powers and the ability to control them.” Nails raked up and down forearms.

His little brother chewed on his lip, and Klaus saw the sore that was starting to form from the incessant worrying.

“Hey.” He kicked Five lightly. “You’re going to fuck up your lip if you keep doing that.”

Five released his lip from between his teeth and ran his tongue over the sore to try and sooth it. Then he squinted at Klaus and looked him up and down.

“You’re getting on to me for bad habits but you’re over there scratching your forearms up.” Smugness at his observation and worry at his brother’s actions blended into Five’s voice.

Klaus ran his palms over his forearms as if it would sooth the angry, red skin. He bit down a hiss of pain and said, “I’m already fucked. You, however, can be saved.”

The look on Five’s face was clearly one of disagreement, but he didn’t verbally counter Klaus. No fighting—yet; another win in Klaus’ book.

Ben, on the other hand, clearly didn’t care about Klaus’ book and its wins. Bluntly, he said, “You know that’s not true, Klaus. You just gave up a long time ago.”

A bitter laugh wormed it’s way out of Klaus and he threw his gaze to the ground. “Well giving up isn’t hard when your family decides you aren’t worth their time.” He laughed again, forced this time. Almost cheerful if it wasn’t for the edge. “But it’s not big deal!”

Five frowned and Ben gave him  that look .

“Oh, come on!” Klaus whined. “Is it National  _ Gang Up On Klaus _ _ Day?_”

“Yes,” said both Five and Ben in unison.

Klaus shuddered. “Creepy.”

His little brother smirked before eyeing Klaus’ forearms again. Five’s calculating gaze ran up and down the pale extremities before gliding across any other visible skin for injuries. He found none, other than some bruises on the elder’s hands and some peeking out from under his crop top.

“We should probably find something to clean those,” Five said, gesturing the raised and angry skin.

The man hummed in agreement and followed Five as he stood and turned to the Academy. As they walked up the steps, Ben appeared next to Klaus.

“At least one of you has common sense.”

Klaus grumbled and rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything in return because, one: like hell he was going to give Ben the satisfaction of acknowledging that he was right, and two: he was so, so,  so  thirsty. His throat felt like a desert. Or the pavement on a  _ really _ hot day. Like, hot enough that you can hear it sizzling. Yep, that was his throat.  _ Yay! _

As Five dug around where the infirmary used to be, Klaus zoned out. The wonderful, ever-present  screaming  of the dead was floating around him. More like crashing down on him like a wave, actually. He could barely hear Five kicking the ruble around over the cacophony of howling and screeching.

“...laus?” Another disembodied voice floated into Klaus’ ears. “Klaus? Klaus!”

A blue light flashed in front of Klaus and suddenly Ben was there. His brows were furrowed and his arms were akimbo, as if he was angry. But the soft edge to his gaze said otherwise.

“Five’s been trying to get your attention for like two minutes. You’re freaking him out.”

Klaus muttered an “Oh,” before snapping his head towards his little brother, and wincing when the voices swelled to full volume again.

He watched Five’s lips move as he spoke and held up a battered First Aid kit. Klaus assumed Five was telling him to come over and get his arms disinfected. Or something like that.

The elder walked over to Five, hopping over debris and ignoring the very prominent urge to slam his head into the concrete to just make the voices  stop.  The thought was not new.

He flipped his forearms up towards the heavens to let Five examine them while Klaus stared up at the grey sky. It was actually fairly dark, he realized. The only thing allowing them to see were the fires scattered around the rubble, giving off an ambient light. It slightly distorted the shadows on Five’s face and ended up creating a back-eyed, ghostly looking thing.

A sharp sting pulled Klaus’ eyes back down to Earth and even further down to his forearms, where Five was dabbing at them with an alcohol wipe.

“Ow!” Even If Klaus couldn’t hear himself say the word, he could feel the syllables fall off his tongue and out of his mouth. Five’s eye roll told him that it was heard, but there was no reply.

Ben appeared in the corner of his vision. “They’re loud,” is all he said.

Klaus barely heard him, but for some odd reason, it was comforting to Klaus to know that there was another person—dead, albeit, but still—who was sharing Klaus’ slice of Hell. It wasn’t like Ben can do anything other than yell at a few ghosts and maybe shove some away, but it was the thought that counts.

Well, that was what Klaus would’ve  liked  to think. But the ‘though that counts’ wasn’t able to stop the shrieking and the yelling and the  god awful screaming  of the dead. 

The hands on his forearms stopped moving and Klaus opened his eyes.  When did he close them?  Five’s mouth was moving but Klaus couldn’t focus enough to make out what he was saying, and even though Ben was practically screaming in his ear, Klaus couldn’t make out what either brother was trying to ask.

Klaus’s vision distorted and swirled, twisting the face of Five and the ground around him, until they violently careened to side.

Five’s hands grasped at him desperately, but it didn’t do much to stop Klaus from hitting the ground; Five’s 5’3” frame versus Klaus’ 6’0” stature wasn’t much of an even fight.

The panicked look on his little brother’s face was almost enough to get Klaus to ignore his vertigo and trying and comfort him, but the thought of doing anything other than blacking out made his stomach twist into knots.

So, with the rapid  _ tap, tap, tap  _ of Five’s hand again this chest and Ben’s urgent calls that looked an awful lot like his name, Klaus let the ringing in his ears and the black swimming at the edge of his vision take him away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically me using Klaus to try and kinda explain my idea for this story in a very long-winded and roundabout way while trying to make it sound like Klaus. 
> 
> And, fun fact: those are the actors’ real heights! I am five inches taller than Aiden.


	4. Of Vices And Virtues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with starting a chapter by having Klaus wake up :)
> 
> And who needs water? Certainly not these boys because the author forgot humans need water to survive.

The incessant pounding in his head and the constant itch and burn of his veins wasn't doing anything to help Klaus stay asleep. Neither were the muffled noises of distress and pacing, which tugged at something in Klaus's hazy memory. 

Klaus let out a soft groan at the soreness of his limbs and the light ringing in his ears. _Where did that come from?_ He shuffled through muddled memories before letting out a moan of displeasure; those ghosts never failed to give Klaus a rough time. 

There was a sudden halt to the pacing and muttering, which caused Klaus to go still himself. Did he pass out in another alley or something? OD again? 

"Klaus?" A young voice cut through his thoughts and it took Klaus much too long to piece everything together. 

_Apocalypse. Five. Ben. Ghosts. _

"Five?" _Jesus_, his voice was wrecked. 

Quick footsteps made their way closer to Klaus, who in turn cracked his eyes open, only to hiss at the bright sky. 

A shadow appeared above him and Klaus opened his eyes wider, discovering that the shadow was Five. Behind his little brother, Ben hovered by Five's shoulder. 

"You passed out for a few hours." 

Klaus groaned, then coughed. "Yeah I realized that," he croaked out. 

Five glanced over his shoulder, directly at Ben, who waved fruitlessly. "Ben's still here?" 

Nodding wordlessly, Klaus pulled himself into a sitting position. "I don't think I've done a sit-up in like, at least a decade."

The younger of the two didn't say anything, but instead placed two fingers on Klaus' wrist. Right over the pulse. 

Klaus frowned. "You okay, bro?" 

"I just..." Five took in shaky breath. "When you passed out I thought you had died. That it caught up to you." 

Oh, yeah. Five was blissfully unaware that Klaus couldn't die. (Should he keep that to himself?) And the fact that he was obsessively monitoring Klaus' BPM told him that his little brother still wasn't fully convinced that he was alive. 

Slowly, Klaus pried Five's fingers off his wrist—ignoring the panicked intake of breath—and held the smaller hand in his. 

"Five, I'm alive." 

The aforementioned brother stared at Klaus, as if he was trying to pick out a lie in his other's statement. 

Ben appeared next to Klaus. "Hug him, Klaus."

Klaus hummed and opened his arms to Five, who in turn stared at him. No doubt thinking about the _wonderful_ rules of the Hargreeves household that were drilled into his mind—which Klaus had since forgotten. 

But Five slowly piled himself into Klaus' arms, shoving his head against his older brother's chest to listen to the steady _ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum_ of Klaus' heart. 

Klaus looked down and took in the bruise-like bags under Five's eyes and frowned. 

"How long has it been since you slept?" A shrug. Klaus furrowed his brow even more. "Are you tired?" A less committed shrug. 

The Séance turned to look at his ghostly brother, whose lips were also turned down in a frown. "You should try and get him to sleep a bit. He didn't sleep last night." 

"Alright." Five's eye's swiveled to look at Klaus tiredly. "Ben says it's bed time." 

Five frowned. "Klaus it's ten o'clock in the morning." Then he yawned. 

Klaus held back a laugh. "And you're about to fall asleep sitting here." 

His little brother grumbled but didn't say much in disagreement, letting Klaus pull him up to a standing position. 

They slowly made their way back to the Academy, Five stumbling over his own two feet and Klaus creeping along next to him to make sure his brother didn't fall down and knock his teeth in. 

Eventually, they made it to their strange, make-shift bed. Klaus cleared away as much of the dust as he could before helping Five down, dutifully ignoring the younger's groaning of how he was capable of doing it himself. 

The kid was out the moment his head hit the charred pillow. 

Klaus let out a sigh at the sight of his sleeping brother. The startling amount of stress lines smoothed out and the tension seemed to seep out of Five's muscles infinitesimally. 

Ben glided over to Five's small form and hovered over him. His gaze seemed to bore its way into their younger brother's soul before turning his eyes to Klaus. 

"I thought he was going to pass out from lack of air. He started panicking and hyperventilating when you collapsed." Ben's eyes got even sadder, which didn't seem possible. "He kept saying, 'not you too,' over and over again while trying to get you to wake up." 

The other man tried to swallow around the lump in his throat to respond, but just closed his mouth and sat down. 

Silence enveloped them in a glass blanket, being periodically cracked and fractured by the crackle of distant fires and wind whistling through decimated buildings. 

Then the screams started. Small, slow waves of sound coming in and out of the blanket. But it rose. It rose faster and faster and soon the silence_ shattered,_ leaving Klaus to desperately clutch at his ears in a desperate attempt to protect his hearing—and his sanity. 

Klaus let out a low whine, folding in on himself as if that would make the situation any better. As if he could protect himself from the tens of hundreds of_ thousands_ of wraiths and spirts and ghost and ghouls and phantoms and demons. 

The fizzling energy that Klaus had come to recognize at Ben appeared in front of him, no doubt saying something. But with something warm and sticky cooling on his palms and otherworldly shrieks in his ears, Klaus couldn't be bothered to figure out what it was. 

He just wanted to get _high._

God, that sounded wonderful. Just one quick pill. Maybe a few—maybe a dozen; then he could go back to being the responsible adult. Five would be fine for a day right? Klaus just needed to screaming to stop. And there was a pharmacy not even two blocks from the Academy. Surely a few pills had made it through the fire. It would be so_ easy. _

When he finally looked up and saw Ben staring at him with upturned eyebrows and hands reaching out in a useless attempt to help him, Klaus knew that Ben had figured out exactly what was going on. 

"_Klaus_." Ben's lips moved to form his name but what Klaus heard sounded _nothing_ like Ben. It sounded more desperate, tormented. Definitely much more lost to rhyme and reason, since reasonable people knew screaming one's name over and over and over again was not the polite thing to do. 

Ignoring his brother, Klaus started heading down the street towards the pharmacy. He made his way down the block and came to what Klaus though was a familiar sign—he had probably worked that corner, if he was being honest—but now it was melted and twisted, a metal tree forming out of it's ruins. 

Ben appeared in front of his brother once again, a frustrated look adorning his face. His hand pointed back down the street and Klaus fought the urge to turn an look. An angry cluster of words spilled out of the dead man's mouth, but all Klaus made out was "Five," "alone," and the strangely formed sentence of, "don't be stupid."

"I can't hear you!" Klaus waved his elbows in a twisted version of the Chicken Dance to draw attention to his cupped ears. Although, Klaus doubted he would actually hear Ben if he took his hands away because there was a strange ringing in his ears that was doing a good job at quieting the screams. (Even if they were still loud enough to be deafening.)

The blue energy around Ben fizzled brighter for a second as he looked behind himself. He then made a face, nodded, and turned back around to face Klaus again. Another torrent of words spilled from The Horror's lips as he tried to get his brother's attention. 

Klaus wasn't having any of it. 

"I CAN'T FUCKING HEAR YOU, BENNY!" Klaus screeched to hear himself over the howls, as well as the buzzing of his veins that he could practically _hear_ through everything else. 

More absent noise came from Ben, but it almost sounded like "yes, you can." Whatever. Klaus just needed some yummy pills. 

He moved through Ben, determined to get himself some_ silence_, when out of no where, his very _dead brother_ reappeared in front of him and punched him. In the face. Again. 

_What the fuck, universe. _

The pure shock that went through his system was enough to knock down the intensity of the screaming to the point where he could hear Ben say, "I forgot I could do that."

Klaus stared at Ben with open mouthed shock as he flashed blue and then faded back into the ethereal realm. He had completely forgotten Ben could do that too, which was confusing since Ben could really pack a punch. You'd think you wouldn't forget a ghost punching you hard enough to the point of bruising.

Another voice wormed it's way into his ears asking, "Was that _Ben_?" 

Klaus turned around and, lo and behold, his little brother was standing there looking confused, dazed, and tired. 

All the screaming faded to the background as a small knife of guilt stabbed at Klaus as he realized that Five was trying to catch up on sleep and he had most likely woken him. 

"Uh," Klaus glanced back at Ben, who was staring at his hands. "Yeah." 

"Ben, who is very dead, punched you in the face?"

The bruise on Klaus' cheek throbbed and he brought a hand up to gingerly touch it. "Did you see him, or did I just, like, jerk backwards?" He winced as his fingers brushed the purpling skin. 

Five went to rub at his eyes, then saw the dust coating them and thought better. "I think. I saw something blue appear in front of you and you went—" Five mimed Klaus by making strange jerking motion— "then you stared at open space with a very surprised look on your face."

"Yeah, well, I forgot he could do that. I forgot it hurt so much, too." Klaus gestured to his discolored cheek, was where pain pulsed in sync with his heartbeat. 

A startled look plasters itself onto Five's face before it shifted into confusion. "He's done it before? And you forgot? You forgot that Ben—who is, like I have stated before,_ dead_—punched you in the face." Five shook his head. "Why'd he do it, though?" 

"Wow, he really doesn't miss an opportunity to remind me that I'm dead," Ben said sardonically. 

Klaus let a sharp grin cut his face. "Ben says you're mean for reminding him that he's dead." 

"Well, he is." Five rolled his eyes. "And that's not the point. Don't ignore my question, you idiot." 

"Rude," Klaus commented before the grin fell off his face. "I was trying to get high." 

Five's eyebrow shot into his unruly hair for a moment. "Well, that answer came easier than I expected." Then there was a pregnant pause before the boy quietly asked, "were you trying to get high this time?" 

Several moments passed before Klaus stopped staring at his brother. "Yeah," was the quiet answer. 

A sharp inhale was heard from Five. Klaus looked back up and watched as a conflict of emotions crossed Five's thin face before it settled on something. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but Klaus didn't like it. It made his brother's eyebrows sew together and his mouth dip down. It made his eyes look despondent and it made Klaus feel incredibly guilty. 

The guilt pooled in Klaus' stomach as he watched Five cross his arms in front of him and duck his head into his chest. It began to devour his insides as his little brother's shoulders began trembling. 

"Five..." he started. 

There were no tears when Five lifted his face to look at his brother again. "So you were just going to go fuck off somewhere and get high?" The venom in Five's voice made Klaus recoil. "You were going to go wander around this desolate city, high as a fucking kite? What would happen if you overdosed, Klaus?" Five's voice was edging on hysteria. "Huh? There's no one here to help you! Ben wouldn't be able to tell me and even if I knew where you were I wouldn't be able to do shit because my powers won't work! You could die, Klaus! Don't you fucking get it? You would leave me _alone!_"

The realization seemed to strike Five as hard as it did Klaus. The Boy sat down with a dejected _thump._ Dust billowed up around him and stuck to his skin, creating an ashen and ghoulish look. 

Klaus shivered at the morbid comparison. The ghosts that tormented him and his brother(s) were two entirely different things; the thought of them becoming one in the same made Klaus sick to his stomach. 

"Five... Five, I'm sorry," Klaus said, feeling like it was a wholly inadequate response. 

Ben glided into Klaus' periphery. "You done fucked up this time, bro." 

Klaus' thin fingers weaved into his unruly curls and tugged. _Hard_. "God, Ben, I know. I know." His hands fell from his hair and dragged themselves down his face, dust and sweat sticking to his fingers. "But sometimes it just feels like too much. And I don't know what else I can do."

A pitiful laugh escaped Klaus as he mimicked Five. The leather of his pants creaked as they stretched to accommodate his new position across from his brother. 

"You could learn to control your powers?" Ben threw the thought out on the table. 

Klaus gave a bitter snort. "Sorry to disappoint you, Ben, but there's no mausoleums to throw me into for a day or two." 

That caught Five's attention. 

"What's he saying?" His voice was monotonous, as if he didn't _actually_ care what Ben was saying but felt some kind of moral obligation to ask. 

_Ouch_. If Five was pulling the verbal cold shoulder then Klaus must've really hurt him. But, if there was one thing Klaus knew about his brother, it was that presenting a problem that needed to be solved was always a way to get Five going. And while this wasn't a mathematical problem (Five's favorite), it was a still problem none the less. 

"Benny suggested that I learn how to control my powers." 

Five stopped rolling a pebble numbly between his fingers and looked at Klaus' quizzically. "And how did you do that during special training?" 

"Usually it was the mausoleum. But sometimes it was with an Ouija board or him just making me read over old murder files out loud in hopes that an angry victim would come forth and scream into my ear as well," Klaus listed with resigned familiarity. 

"Don't forget that one night, maybe a few weeks after I died," Ben said, coldness creeping into his voice. 

Klaus hummed in remembrance. "Oh, yeah. _That_ was a fun night," he said sarcastically. 

"Still can't hear Ben," Five commented. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Klaus huffed. "Anyways, there was this one night, probably two or three weeks after Ben died. At this point, Ben would pop up and follow me around like some weird stray for a bit before disappearing." 

Ben scoffed. "Rude." 

Klaus waved him off. "Daddy Dearest confronted me asking if I had 'managed to make a connection to Number Six.' I told him Ben had made a habit of following me around sometimes but not much else. So, with that nice tidbit of information, he dragged me up to Ben's room and locked me in there while I was coming down from a high and told me I could not leave until I could physically manifest him." The Séance paused. "That night ended with him yelling verbal abuse at me and me launching myself out of Ben's window because he was stressing me the fuck out and I wanted to get high again." He let out an empty laugh. 

Five nodded slowly, letting the information sink in. "Well, seeing as that practically everything that wasn't concrete has been destroyed, Ouija boards and murder files are out of the question. And, to be honest, looking for a mausoleum doesn't sound too fun, considering I might pass out if I don't drink some water soon." 

"I would say I agree," Ben started. "But I'm dead and I can't really feel anything."

"Shut up, man." Klaus rolled his eyes. "But yeah, water sounds pretty good." 

The younger of the two glanced around. "So lets find water and possibly some food, then we'll start trying to get you to control your power. Sans literally everything but making you try to manifest Ben. Because you're not a very good translator, and I'm almost positive half the stuff you say on Ben's behalf isn't what he said." 

"That's a relief." Klaus grinned. "I don't think you yelling at me or me trying to find a window to jump out of would've gone well in any scenario." 

Five cracked a tiny smile and Klaus let out a breath of relief before hopping up. He held out a hand to his younger brother, who quirked an eyebrow before accepting it. 

"Time to find some water!" Klaus' raspy voice just proved his point. 

"Yay," Ben muttered, "I love scavenger hunts." 

"Loser." 

"What did he say?" Five pressed, exasperation seeping into his tone. 

Klaus grinned. "He said that you're stupid." 

Five sighed loudly and rolled his eyes, while Ben let out an exasperated "oh, my God, Klaus." They both shook their heads in unison and Klaus almost commented on how creepy it was. Almost. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcannon that Five has the uncanny ability to tell the exact time whenever. And I finally ended on a happy note?? Oh my god??? Thb, it's not my favorite chapter and I kinda hate the ending, but it is what it is. Hope you enjoy an update after five months, lmao.

**Author's Note:**

> My updating schedule is going to be all over the place, whoop


End file.
